


The Gilded Cage

by Cinammonzoa, Fire_Fly464



Series: Split Realities [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, DreamSMP - Freeform, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulative Relationship, Memory Alteration, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prequel/Sequel thing, Realistic Minecraft, They all need hugs, Villain!Dream, l'manberg, someone please just give fundy a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27230038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinammonzoa/pseuds/Cinammonzoa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Fly464/pseuds/Fire_Fly464
Summary: "I- I don't know- what the fuck? What's going on?" Eret turned to his friends, hoping for some kind of explanation. They looked at him incredulously."Hold on, what did you just say?" Tommy asked him."I said, what's going-" Eret didn't have time to finish when he felt a sharp sting in his neck.Instantly, he collapsed to the ground, his muscles giving out on him as energy drained from his body. The sounds of bodies falling to the ground surrounded him as each of his friends fell alongside him. He tried to scream, but his mouth wouldn’t open. Fear rushed through his veins.An iron needle clattered to the ground next to him, the tip coated with an iridescent gray mixed with blood. He watched as the strange mixture seeped into the cold, stone ground.A shadow loomed over him, a porcelain mask leering down. "Eret, you were supposed to be on our side. I’m glad I came prepared.”~~~Eret swap what will he do
Relationships: Eret & Darryl Noveschosch, Eret & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, but its not a healthy relationship, but other than that its just wholesome frenships :D, hints of fundywastaken
Series: Split Realities [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984448
Comments: 260
Kudos: 633





	1. Prologue

“Gentlemen, this is the room. The Final Control Room.”

Eret's voice rang through the Discord call as he led them to the Final Control room. He quickly moved his Minecraft character into the darkened room, the rest of them checking the chests. As he was about to press the small wooden button, he felt a tug at his chest. It was like his very soul had been pulled, and he was falling through the threads and weavings of reality.

Colors were flying past him faster than he could process, sounds of all kinds could be heard but they were either too distorted to understand. In this cacophony of distorted mess, Eret could only think of one thing.

"What the fu-"

"-ret? Eret, what- hello?" He heard a voice next to him. He was in a dark room, hand hovering over a wooden button. Instinctively, he pulled away from it.

"Guys? What the..." Eret tried to ask but trailed off. He wasn't at his computer desk anymore, this wasn't just a game on a 2D monitor, he was actually there. He saw the intricate polished blackstone all around him, the empty chests that were at the sides of the room and everyone wearing their L'manburg uniforms, just like the Minecraft skins.

"Eret? Are you alright?" Wilbur asked. Even though it looked and sounded like Will, something wasn't right. He wasn't speaking through a microphone on Discord, he was right in front of him.

"I- I don't know- what the fuck? What's going on?" Eret turned to them, hoping for some kind of explanation. They looked at him incredulously.

"Hold on, what did you just say?" Tommy asked him.

"I said, what's going-" Eret didn't have time to finish when he felt a sharp sting in his neck. 

Instantly, he collapsed to the ground, his muscles giving out on him as energy drained from his body. The sounds of bodies falling to the ground surrounded him as each of his friends fell alongside him. He tried to scream, but his mouth wouldn’t open. Fear rushed through his veins.

An iron needle clattered to the ground next to him, the tip coated with an iridescent gray mixed with blood. He watched as the strange mixture seeped into the cold, stone ground. 

A shadow loomed over him, a porcelain mask leering down. "Eret, you were supposed to be on our side. I’m glad I came prepared.” 

His blood ran cold. That was Dream. A person he joked around with and played with in Minecraft. Dream's voice sounded precise and calculated, like a hunter waiting to strike. The cold voice pierced his mind, causing him to panic. He needed to run. He needed to get out of there. 

“Oh well, it's nothing that can’t be easily fixed,” The gleaming white mask seemed to be staring into his soul, reading his every thought and emotion. The man crouched down in front of him, a wide, psychotic grin on his face. “Perhaps this will teach you a lesson.” Dream glanced up at someone and nodded. “Take care of him.”

Someone was walking towards him. Eret could hear the soft footsteps against the cold, stone ground. He couldn’t move his head to look, no matter how desperately he tried. 

His eyes darted around the small room, trying to take in his surroundings from where he lay. His stomach lurched as he made eye contact with Wilbur on the other side of the room. His friends' eyes were filled with raw terror, laced with an undertone of betrayal. 

The glint of pain and betrayal was burned into his mind as a boot came down on his head, knocking him out cold.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing that Eret noticed when he woke up was the aching pain in his head. Before he even opened his eyes, he could feel the side of his head throbbing. Every tiny movement sent another wave of pain through his mind. 

Tentatively, he cracked open his eyes, only to shut them almost immediately as a bright light pierced his vision. The light only caused his headache to grow ten times worse. A wave of nausea washed over him, making him groan internally. The last thing he could clearly remember was being on stream, with each memory after that fuzzy and unreachable. 

All things considered, he was probably hungover. He couldn’t remember ever getting drunk, which probably wasn’t a good sign. 

Eret tried for a second time to open his eyes, this time pushing through the pain in his head. As he looked around, he noticed his surroundings were blindingly white. It was as if someone pointed a flashlight directly at his face. Squinting, he tried to see where he was. 

It was way too bright to see anything he recognised, but even with the weird light he saw, he couldn’t see any of the familiar outlines of his desk or chair. It looked like he was inside some sort of strange room from the looks of it, only just barely able to make out the bright outlines of a couple windows. Oh god, did he get kidnapped? Was he already in the second location? What was going on?

“Whoa, slow down. You’re going to make yourself sick. The potion still hasn’t fully left your system,” Eret was forced to swallow a scream of surprise as he heard his friend's voice. Wilbur’s voice was coming from somewhere beside him, though it was far too bright to actually see him. “Wait, here’s your glasses.”

Glasses? Since when did he wear glasses? “My wha-” Eret began, cut off as an object was pushed into his hands, plasticine and cool to the touch. A pair of sunglasses. He slipped them over his eyes and immediately realized why Wilbur had given them to him. Everything darkened significantly and he could see a lot more than he could before. He was in some sort of van, metal sheets were hammered into the walls of it, as if it had been built by people who didn’t really know what they were doing. 

“Hey, so uh, how are you feeling?” Wilbur asked, his voice filled with tension. 

He glanced over, surprised to find his friend wearing a strange, revolution based outfit. Maybe they were at a con? That would explain the strange cosplay, but it still didn’t make sense. For one, Eret couldn’t remember ever actually going to any conventions, and besides, he was fairly certain that all all conventions were canceled because of covid.

“I feel like shit,” he admitted, slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position. 

Will chuckled slightly, but it sounded forced. “That makes sense. The potion took a toll on all of us.” 

“Potion…?” If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know where he was, or why Wilbur was there too. He didn’t know what was going on. He was confused, lost, and just wanted to go back to bed. 

The door to the strange van creaked open and someone poked their head in. “How’s he do- oh! You’re up!”

Eret had to do his best to suppress a shriek of surprise. Entering the van was Fundy, but he was… well, different. Peeking through Fundy’s brown wavy hair were two pointed fox ears, and swishing behind him was a fiery orange tail, tipped with a patch of snow white fur. _What the fuck?_

“Fundy?”

Wilbur furrowed his brow. “He might be experiencing some memory loss. Eret, do you remember who I am?”

“What?” He shook his head, trying to focus. “Yeah, I don’t-- Memory’s good. Just uhh…” He tried to think of a viable excuse, but nothing came to him. “Y’know.”

“Right.”

A tense silence fell over the room as the three of them stared at each other, unsure of what any of them would say next.

Fundy cleared his throat. “Well, sir, I’ll assume my post at the door again. Let me know if he causes any trouble.”

Wilbur nodded in return. “Make me proud, son.”

With a sharp salute, the fox began towards the door of the van. “Of course, father.” Just as soon as he had entered, he was gone, his tail flicking behind him.

Eret furrowed his brow. Father? That didn’t make sense, Wilbur was only three years older than--

Oh.

Memories came rushing back to him as the pieces clicked into place. He remembered the Final Control Room, the strange falling sensation and... being in the game? No, no. That can’t be right. It wasn’t real, right?

“Eret. I need you to focus. I’m going to ask you a few questions.” Wilbur asked, now more forcefully.

“Er, sorry about that. What- sorry- what was the question?” Eret was tempted to ask him what was going on but he thought he should just answer the questions for now.

Wilbur sighed, as if disappointed. “Why didn’t you press the button?”

“Why didn’t I- what?”

“The button was supposed to open up the walls, wasn’t it? You were going to open up the walls, let Dream in, and drug us all. You were supposed to betray us, why didn’t you?” 

“I- I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Eret, don’t lie to me, we found the needles in your bag-”

“I’m not lying.” He steadied his voice, there’s no use shouting at Wilbur. It would only end up making things worse. “I didn’t know what was going on. Wilbur, you have to believe me.”

“You were going to _betray_ us. Why should I believe you?”

Eret didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t real. This isn’t supposed to be real. It was just a game. It was… It was right in front of him. Wilbur didn’t act like himself, he was stern and precise. Was he really even Wilbur? The one he streamed with and joked around with? The one he gathered resources for in Minecraft? He just didn’t understand. 

“Wil, what the hell is going on?” Eret started. “One minute, I’m at my PC. Next, I’m here in this… whatever this place is.”

“What do you mean? Eret, you-” Wilbur was cut off.

“Wilbur, I don’t think I’m from here.”

“...what?” 

“I- This whole world- This isn’t supposed to be real. I’m not supposed to be-”

_Click._

Darkness creeped into the edges of Eret’s vision, spots dancing in front of his eyes. Blood rushed past his ears, drowning out any other sounds. It felt as if his mind was filled with static noise, whizzing and humming. “What the…” He blinked a few times to clear his vision. Wilbur sat on the wooden stool, his eyes glazed over. “Uh, Wilbur? Are you alri-”

Wilbur snapped out of his strange trance and shot to his feet, his gaze filled with anger and hatred. “Eret. You heartless bastard. Do you have any **_IDEA-_** "

“What? Wilbur, why-”

“Why the fuck are you even here?! To mock us?! To rub your victory in our faces?!” he was screaming now, his voice echoing through the small room, making Eret’s head pound.

"What the hell are you talking about?! I didn't do anything!" he was on his feet now, his arms raised to protect himself. He didn’t know what was going on, but the look in his friends eyes was enough to make him fear for his safety. 

The door to the van slammed open as Fundy came rushing inside. A rush of emotions flew across his face as he took in the situation before him, going from confusion, to shock, and eventually settling on pure hatred, mixed with a hint of fear. His tall, pointed ears were flattened against his head. In any other situation, Eret might have found it funny, but in the moment he was in no mood to laugh. “What the fuck is going on? Why is Eret here?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to figure out. This son of a bitch was here when I came in, who knows what he might have done.” Will snarled, never taking his eyes off Eret.

“What the fuck do you mean? Wilbur, you brought me here! I’ve been here the entire time! You- Fundy, you saw me!” 

“Excuse me? What the hell do you mean by that? I’ve been standing outside this entire time!” Fundy’s hand was on the hilt of his sword, ready to unsheath it and attack at any moment. 

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Fundy, trying to figure out what Eret was talking about. “Enough!” he cried, “Fundy, I want you to go and ring the alarm bell. I need everyone here at once. Understood?”

“But what if he-” 

His eyes narrowed even further. _“Now.”_

Eret’s mind raced a thousand miles a minute as he watched his friend scamper outside, most likely to go and sound the alarm. He needed to run, to escape. He didn’t know what was going on, or why Wilbur was so angry at him, but he knew that he needed to leave. The murderous look in his friend’s eyes made it very clear that he wasn’t just going to let Eret walk away peacefully. 

The far off sound of a bell ringing echoed through the small van. Eret could feel his heart rate increasing. Any second now, the others were going to come into the room, and it would make escape ten times harder. If he was going to make a run for it, this was his chance. 

He glanced at Wilbur, then to the door. Although the taller man was in a defensive stance, he wasn’t armed. There was no weapon in his hands. This could be his only chance. 

He crashed through the door, and didn’t look back.


	3. Chapter 3

_Run._

Cries surrounded him, the voices of people he had thought were his friends piercing his mind. It was unfortunate that they hadn’t thought the same of him.

_You need to get away from them._

The cold wind flew past him in streaks of haze. He couldn't tell where he was running to, only that he was running away. A gust of wind blew the hat off of his head, but between the pounding of his heart in his chest and his frantic planning, he barely noticed. 

_You'll live if you run far enough._

The light dusting of snow brushed against his shoes as he shot past. One of his shoes fell off a while back, leaving one of his feet numb, but he couldn't concentrate on that now.

_Run. They aren't your friends anymore. You can't trust them._

Dodging trees and logs and leaves, running to who knows where at this point. 

_This wasn’t real, this couldn’t be real._

Something flew past his head, only narrowly missing his ear. He let out a curse. 

_They’re trying to kill you_

A sharp pain exploded in his right arm. He only forced himself to run faster. 

_Ignore the pain. Just keep running. You’ll find safety eventually._

He could feel adrenaline coursing through his veins, numbing his arm. 

_Keep moving. Just keep moving._

The throbbing in his head was growing worse. His vision was blurring. He forced himself to keep going.

_Don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop._

He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, the sound of blood rushing past, drowning out any other sounds. His breathing was quick, and shallow. 

_Just focus on running. Don’t think of anything else._

How long had he been running for? He didn’t know. It didn’t matter, just so long as he kept moving. Right now, all that mattered was getting away. 

_Get as far away as possible._

He was slowing down. Why was he slowing down? He couldn’t slow down, he needed to keep moving. He would be killed if he slowed down. He couldn’t afford to slow down. 

_Why the fuck are you stopping? You can’t fucking stop._

His legs burned with adrenaline, pins and needles shooting up his thighs. He could feel the warmth of blood running down his arm and the stinging pain that came with it.

_Run._

His pace continued to slow down. No, no he can’t. He can’t slow down. If he slows down he’ll-

_RUN._

His vision started to blur. Colors and shapes were formed into an arrangement of fuzzy mush. Greens, blues and reds were stirring in his vision. The edges of his eyesight started to fade into black.

_Whatever you do, don’t stop. Stop and you’re dead. Stop and you’ll-_

The darkness consumed his vision.

~~~

“Eret? Can you hear me? Are you awake?”

The voice was muffled, distant. 

“Eret, are you okay?”

He tried to push himself up, but his arms violently shook under him. He bit his tongue, doing his best not to cry out in pain. He watched as blood stained the snow under him underneath him, the deep crimson slowly spreading. He watched as it seeped into the ground, only to freeze over a moment later. 

“Woah, hey!” The person grabbed his arm. A jolt of pain coursed through him, but it was dull, and barely noticeable. He couldn’t feel the person grabbing his arm, much less the resulting pain. “You’re still hurt. Careful. God, what did you do…?” 

Eret grit his teeth. “I got fuckin’ shot,” he muttered, his words slurred, barely understandable. His eyes blurred, the corners of his vision going dark.

“Language,” The person sighed. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Pins and needles shot through him. He was going numb. He could barely see. He could feel himself drifting off, slipping in and out of consciousness. Every logical thought in his mind was telling him to _run, run far away, get as far as you can,_ but he was too exhausted to move.

He could barely hear the voice murmuring to him as they carried him to safety. “You’re gonna be okay.”

~~~

When he finally awoke, he was laying on a soft bed, warmth surrounding him. It was completely different to when he had woken up in the cold van. Instead of being surrounded by hostility, there was a feeling of kindness in the air. 

He glanced around, trying to figure out where he was, only to once more find himself unable to see. The blinding white light had returned, making him squint. 

As he pushed himself up to a sitting position, he saw the outline of a small bedside table. On top of the table, he was pretty sure he could see a small, dark object. With a wince, he reached over and grabbed the dark glasses. 

Instantly, the world around him darkened, letting him actually see his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be a large, open room, split off into different sections. The section he was in seemed to be a makeshift bedroom of sorts, with curtains strung across the ceiling to provide privacy. 

From the small opening in the curtains, Eret could just barely make out the center of the room. In the middle stood a large pillar that reached to the ceiling, with stairs leading downwards. On the other side of the pillar was a crackling fireplace that filled the large room with warmth and light. A large couch was sat in front of it, giving a spot to rest and relax. 

In one corner, he could just barely make out the corner of what looked to be a kitchen. Eret could hear someone humming to themselves as they moved around the area. The voice sounded familiar, but it was difficult to place from only the humming. 

“Hello?” He called out, trying to figure out who the mysterious person was. He couldn’t remember much after he had blacked out, but he did remember someone helping him. Perhaps this was the same person. 

The sounds of shuffling came to an abrupt halt. They had stopped.

“Who’s there?” he called out, his voice trembling. “Please, I just want to know what's going on”

With the screech of metal on metal, the curtain in the doorway parted to reveal a tall, shadowy creature. They were an inky black, as though they were a silhouette, and their eyes glowed a haunting white. A dark hood covered their head, making the creature look even more intimidating. Eret was forced to swallow a scream of surprise at the sight. 

“Oh good, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” the creature spoke.

Eret couldn’t believe it. This… thing had the exact same voice as his friend back home, and had a striking resemblance to the man’s Minecraft skin. He had to be dreaming.

“Pinch me.”

“What?”

“You need to pinch me. This can’t be real.”

“What? I’m not going to--”

“Pinch me!”

Bad frowned slightly as he sat down at Eret’s bedside. “I’m not going to pinch you, you’re still really hurt. How does your arm feel?” 

Eret ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t exactly care about my arm right now, this just… it has to be a dream. None of this can be happening, it’s not real.”

“Oh.” Bad looked down and let out a sigh. “Well, Eret, let me tell you what. You and I are here right now, and I love you, and my love is real. So don’t be a little muffin, alright?”

His friend’s reassuring words couldn’t calm Eret’s fear. “No, this isn’t real! I-I’m in some sort of fucked up dream or coma or _something,_ ” His words were filled with desperation, as though he were trying to convince himself of the lie. 

“Hey! Watch your language,” Bad said, before giving his friend a sympathetic glance. He looked towards the open curtain and called out, “Hey, George? Do you know what happened to Eret? He seems really upset.”

“Yeah, he got shot.” a calm voice called from beyond the doorway. As George stepped into view, he lifted his sunglasses from his eyes and rested them on his head. “Getting shot can do that to a person.” 

“No, I know that, George! I’m just worried!” 

The man sighed. “Setting up the control room took a lot of work, not to mention he just nearly froze to death. He’s been through a lot, Bad.”

Eret couldn’t help but stare in dumbfounded shock. It felt too real now. He was here, of course, but he was really _here_ \-- in the middle of a war against his best friends, and he didn’t know how to feel about it. He had only been conscious for less than an hour since his arrival, and he had already been injured several times.

On the one hand, at least he wasn’t alone. A single glance at his surroundings proved that he had people to help support him. People to help him, people that he knew he could trust.

But on the other, the SMP’s lore was a hellstorm. There was death, pain, true and terrible suffering. They were in the middle of a _war_. He didn’t know much about how combat affected someone, but he knew that it could cause long-lasting trauma. That wasn’t something that could be ignored. 

“I know, George.” Bad’s gentle voice snapped Eret out of his spiraling thoughts. “But there has to be something we can do to help him, you know?”

“I’m right here…” he muttered under his breath. 

George sighed and leaned against the wall. “Alright then, Eret. Talk to me.”

~~~

“What the fuck was all that about?! What just happened?!” Tommy cried out, barging into the small van. His face was red from both the biting cold outside, and the anger that ran through him. He and Tubbo had just returned from chasing Eret out of the L’manberg walls, though Tommy wished they had been able to do more. 

He wanted Eret dead. Just thinking about the man brought a mixture of anger and fear to the surface. No, he _needed_ Eret dead. He needed to make that son of a bitch pay for what he did to them. 

The inside of the van looked like a warzone, with papers and documents cluttering every available surface. The drawers that were pushed up against the wall were all thrown open, their contents spilled across the floor. Inkwells and quills lay scattered across the table in the center, the dark ink seeping into the wood below. 

Wilbur was hastily digging through one of the drawers, throwing vials and potion ingredients all over the floor. It was almost like he was looking for something, but that didn’t make sense. 

“What did he take? Why was he here?!” Wil cried out, Tommy’s voice falling on deaf ears. 

He jumped at the sound of knocking and turned to face his son standing in the doorway. Fundy looked at his father anxiously, ears pinned back against his head and tail swishing as he side-stepped past Tommy.

“I’m _busy,_ ” Wilbur spat. “Now isn’t the time.”

“Well, Dad, I was wondering what we should do about Eret.”

“What, why?! Didn’t you stop him?” 

Fundy’s shoulders shot up to his ears and his whole body tensed, his body language giving away his response “Well, we didn’t manage to catch him, but--”

“Then find him!”

Tommy stepped forward. “I understand you’re upset, but I think you’re being a bit harsh with Fundy, sir.”

The General scoffed. “Upset? Really? I’m not upset, I’m fucking pissed! The man that just betrayed our _entire_ nation just ran off and you all let him!”

“Well, to be fair, he ran pretty fast,” Tubbo offered, trying to be helpful.

“I don’t give a shit how fast he ran, you will find him and you will...” Wilbur sputtered and gesticulated wildly. “...you’ll bring him to me, and I can watch the light fade from his stupid fucking glowing eyes, and--”

“Wilbur, please!” Tommy yelled. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.” Wilbur opened his mouth to interrupt, but Tommy stopped him. “Look, we all hate him for what he did, but if we don’t know where he is, we can’t do shit.”

Wilbur stared at his right hand man and sighed. He was jumping ahead, he needed to stay calm and rational. “Fine. Alright. Sure. We can hold off on that for now.”

Fundy let out a shaky sigh of relief. He had seen Wilbur lose his temper before, and it was never fun, but he had gotten used to it. This, though, was something different, and he wasn’t sure how long it was going to last.

He needed to leave, to get out before his adoptive father grew angry again. Fundy could tell from the furrow in Wilbur’s brow that the anger was not yet gone, and it was only a matter of time before it exploded out again.

“I uh, I’m going to go patrol the walls. I want to make sure he’s actually gone,” Fundy said, desperate for a chance to escape. 

Will glared at him, a spark in his eye unlike any Fundy had seen before. “No, Fundy, you don’t understand the gravity of the situation. You may have been there with us in the control room, but you will never understand what his betrayal truly meant.”

“Wilbur, I--”

“He was there at the founding of our nation, Fundy, he helped build L’Manburg from the ground up, and he left us all behind. And it hurt, and I know it hurt you too, but here’s the thing. Eret has to pay, but you can’t be the one to collect.”

Fundy felt a growl deep in his chest. “I can do this, Wilbur, just trust me--”

“Fundy.” The General stared directly into his eyes, the emotion in his words seemingly gone. “You. Are. Incompetent. You cannot do this, and I mean that literally. This is not for you.”

Fundy felt his ears flatten on the top of his head and he stepped back in shock. He understood what Wilbur meant, he really did. It made sense. After all, he wasn’t the strongest fighter, or the best tactician, or the best anything, really. This wasn’t a job meant for him, it just wasn’t, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. He needed to prove himself, to show that he could at least do _something_ to help.

His shoulders slumped. “I understand. I… I would still like to go on patrol, sir. If I find anything, I will report to you immediately.” He turned on his heel, not giving Wilbur the chance to respond. Pushing past both Tubbo and Tommy, he left the van, trying to escape his shame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> damn imagine getting shot by one of your frens and almost dying to hypothermia. couldnt be me. rip to eret, but im different


	4. Chapter 4

“Alright then, Eret. Talk to me.”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm himself. “George, it’s all…” he trailed off, unable to explain exactly what he was thinking. “What… what happened to me?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

George scoffed. “Did you not hear me when I said you got shot? Did you miss that bit?”

Bad hit him lightly on the arm. “George! That’s not how you support a friend through a trying time!”

“What?! I’m not wrong, am I?”

“Eret, here.” Bad moved himself over on the bed to sit right next to Eret. “We found you passed out in the woods with an arrow sticking out of your arm, so we brought you back here and patched you up.”

“You also were nearly frozen to death. Honestly, I think the reason you didn’t bleed out sooner is because the blood froze over or… something.” George shrugged, a little too nonchalant for Eret’s tastes. “I dunno, I’m not a doctor.”

Bad frowned. “That reminds me… Why were you even out there without a coat? It’s the middle of winter!” 

“I- what?” Eret asked, caught off guard by the question. Hadn’t it just been mid summer? He shook his head. He was in some sort of fucked up world, why was he surprised by a change in seasons? 

Even so, it made sense. It explained why he had passed out in the first place. After all, running through the woods in the dead of winter without anything to protect him from the cold was a surefire way to give himself hypothermia. Thinking back on it, it was surprising that he managed to last as long as he did. Any longer, and he very likely would have died. 

George cleared his throat, dragging Eret back to the present. He realized that his friends were looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. “I uh…” He stammered, trying to come up with a decent excuse. “I didn’t exactly have time to grab a jacket. They were kinda chasing me out…” 

George’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

Bad’s let out a small gasp of surprise as he realized what Eret meant. He quickly stood, trying to take the heat off his friend. “Well, you don’t need to worry about them now!” he exclaimed, trying to hint to George that now wasn’t the time. “Here, how about we get you situated? Do you want something to drink?”

Eret stared numbly up at him. “Why are you being so… nice to me?”

“Because we’re friends,” Bad stated as though it were fact. “And you deserve it. Come on, I’ll make some cookies, and you can rest while I do that, okay? George, give him your jacket.”

“What?!” He sputtered. “Bad, I’m not giving him my--”

“Give it.” Something in Bad’s eyes must have made George decide to change his mind right then. The man nodded and grabbed a coat from a nearby hanger and chucked it over to Eret. 

Almost instinctively, Eret tried to raise his arm to swat away the incoming coat. Pain tore through him, causing him to let out a small gasp. 

“Hey, careful! You don’t want to tear your stitches,” Bad said quickly, rushing to check that the stitches were undamaged. “You’re still healing.”

Eret only watched as his friend undid the bandages that wrapped around his bicep, trying not to wince. His eyes widened when he saw the torn skin, slightly swollen around the places where string held it together. It wasn’t red or bloody, in fact, it looked like it was at least a few days old. He frowned. 

“How long was I out?” He asked. 

“A day, maybe?” Bad held out his hand towards George, not looking away from the wound. “Could you grab some of the gauze I just prepped? I might as well replace it.” 

Eret frowned as he watched George walk out of the small, curtained room. He could hear the sounds of shuffling in what he assumed to be the kitchen. 

“A day…?” He asked, glancing down at the scar on his arm. The faint, red line looked several days old, with only a minimal amount of swelling around it. There was no way it had only been a day. Injuries just didn’t heal that quickly. “How is it healing so fast?” 

“We tried our best to close the wound as quickly as possible. It would have been better if we had been able to get to you sooner, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers,” Bad sighed. “It didn’t help that you were half frozen to death, so we needed to take care of that first before we could even begin thinking about your arm -- hey George! Grab some regen pots while you’re out there please!”

“Splash potions or normal?” George called from beyond the curtains.

“Normal. We’ve already taken care of most of the outer damage. Now it’s just a matter of getting back all that blood he lost” 

Eret sat in confusion, his gaze darting back and forth between the shadow creature in front of him, and the curtain. “That uh… That doesn’t explain how this looks a week old.” 

“Well, your buddy Bad knows a thing or two about healing people,” the demon chuckled. “I soaked the bandages in healing potions so that your wound would close up safely.”

Eret stared at the scar on his arm in wonder. “Holy shit, Bad, that’s genius.”

“Language!”

He looked down, having the courtesy to at least look somewhat ashamed “Sorry…” 

“It’s alright, you muffin,” Bad laughed. “Didn’t I tell you guys to use this technique already? You know it’s really not healthy to just drink health potions, right? Have you not been taking care of yourself?”

Eret grimaced. “Well, it wasn’t exactly… common in L’Manberg, per se?”

Bad’s face fell. “Don’t tell me. Did Wilbur forget? I know I told him how to!”

“I honestly have no clue,” Eret shrugged. It wasn’t technically a lie, he really didn’t know, but the reason why was entirely different than the implication.

Bad nodded, pride shining on his face. “Well, Eret, I can guarantee you that as long as you stay here with us, we’ll take good care of you.”

~~~

Eret woke slowly and peacefully, a surprise to everyone in the community house. His eyes fluttered open at the sound of a knocking in the doorway, and was startled to see Bad tapping his knuckle against the wall, a plate in his other hand.

“Heya, sleepy-head!”

“What are you--” Eret sat up and rearranged his pillows to support his aching back. “What are you doing?”

The demon grinned. “I’m bringing you cookies, what does it look like?” He sat the plate he was holding down on Eret’s nightstand with a clink.

Eret stared, dumbfounded. “Why?”

“Lots of reasons!” Bad replied, smoothing out the wrinkles in his jacket. “I figured you weren’t feeling too great, so I wanted to do something nice for you to cheer you up!”

“Oh.”

“Plus, cookies taste better than potions, so I figured I could kill two birds with one stone and put the regeneration potion into the cookies.”

“Oh.”

“You have to make sure you eat all of them, okay? Doctor’s orders! I made sure to keep it a small batch so you wouldn’t get stuffed.”

“Oh...” Eret could only stare at the six perfectly round cookies sitting on the plate next to him. This was real, physical proof that somebody here cared about him -- really cared.

Why?

Eret couldn’t think of a good reason why anyone here should care about him. He had betrayed L’Manburg, or so everyone in this world thought. He was untrustworthy. He could turn on his friends at any moment. It would have been in Bad’s best interest to leave him freezing out in the snow, to leave him to die, but he hadn’t. Bad had done the opposite. So--

“Why?” he muttered.

The demon furrowed his brow. “Why what? What do you mean?”

“Why do you…” Eret stared down at his hands, unsure of what exactly he felt. “Why do you care? You have no reason to, I-- I’m a traitor. For all you know, I could turn on you, I could stab you in the back, I could...” he trailed off, not daring to finish his sentence.

A small scoff sounded from the open curtain. “Please, you wouldn’t do that.” 

Eret glanced up. George was once more standing in the makeshift doorway, his arms crossed in front of him. “You’ve already invested way too much into this, you wouldn’t just throw it away. Besides, I like to think of it as a double agent. Sounds much cooler than being a traitor.” 

Bad turned and faced George with a disappointed frown. “George.”

“What?” The man glanced around nervously. “I’m not wrong.”

Bad sighed and faced Eret once more. “Well, I guess…” He trailed off, seemingly deciding what words fit his answer best. “I think that everyone deserves to have someone that cares about them. And I already cared about you before I found you in the snow.”

“Besides, we all knew what would happen once you pressed that button,” George added, a soft smile on his face. “We all accepted it, and we knew what would happen. You weren’t the only one in the final control room. We’re in this together.” 

He could only watch as Bad took a seat on the side of his bed.“You’re our friend, Eret. You still deserve love, and a warm bed, and some nice cookies, no matter what you’ve done. And I want to be able to give that to you, for as long as you’ll let me.”

Eret blinked hard, trying to clear away the tears that threatened to spill over. “Do you mean that?”

A warm smile crossed his face. “Of course! Besides, I may have not approved of your plan, but I still vowed to stay neutral. I knew that this was going to happen, and I’m here to help you through it.” 

Eret gave up. The dams he had put up broke, and tears began to stream down his face. He tackled his friend and held him in a tight hug, not daring to let him go. It was slightly strange, considering the fact that his friend was some sort of shadowy-demon monster, but it didn’t matter. The hug was still filled with warmth and love.

It was enough to make a traitor cry.

He could feel a second pair of arms wrap around them as George nestled his head in the space between the other two’s bodies and let out a content sigh. Their tangle of limbs was slightly awkward, but none of them cared. Both George and Bad were too focused on trying to support their friend, and Eret wasn’t focused at all. 

Bad rubbed Eret’s back, trying to comfort him as much as he possibly could. Eret’s throat was too tight for him to say what he meant just then, but he hoped that this embrace said it for him.

_Thank you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT!!!!  
> The first section of Chapter 6 in The Real World has been edited slightly. Please go read that first section!


	5. Chapter 5

Fundy stood atop the wall of L’manberg, staring out into the surrounding world. Wilbur had sent him out onto patrol nearly an hour ago, saying something about how he needed to pull his weight. 

He understood. After all, it wasn’t like he could do much else other than raise an alarm. He wasn’t as strong of a fighter as the others, and his intelligence was better put towards silly redstone contraptions instead of war strategies. The last time he had tried to suggest something, he had been quickly shouted over and ignored. 

He let out a sigh. Several days had passed since Eret had been found inside the van, since Wilbur had yelled at Fundy, and not much had changed since then. Fundy couldn’t bring himself to look his adoptive father in the eyes, scared of the disappointment he would inevitably see. 

Not that he blamed Wilbur, not really. Fundy knew how the stress of Eret’s betrayal was weighing down on all of them, Wilbur especially. Although he tried to hide it from everyone, Fundy could easily see how stressed he was. He could see it in the way that his shoulders tensed whenever someone came near him, or the way that his brow was constantly furrowed in thought. 

His ears perked up at the sound of footsteps on the ladder behind him, tearing him from his thoughts. Dread creeped into his mind as he continued to stare forward, pretending like he hadn’t noticed the approaching man. 

“Hey Fundy…” Wilbur’s voice pierced through the otherwise peaceful scene. Fundy ignored him. Maybe if he ignored his adoptive father for long enough, he would go away. He wasn’t ready to face the inevitable disappointment. His hopes were very quickly dashed as Wilbur stood next to him, leaning on the barrier that kept people from falling over the edge. 

“It's really nice up here, isn’t it?” 

The only response Fundy gave was a slight hum of agreement. 

"So, how have you been holding up?” Wilbur asked, trying to ease the tension between the two of them. 

“I’m fine,” he said simply. 

The man couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of frustration as he ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, look. I get that you’re probably upset with me after what happened, and I honestly don’t blame you. But I…” his voice trailed off as he considered his next words.

Fundy’s ears perked up as he finally glanced at Wilbur. “Wil, it’s fine. It’s fine, alright?” Fundy gave him a half-smile, trying to ease the tension.

Both of them were silent. Air seemed to still.

Wilbur sat down at the edge of the blackstone walls. “I feel like I’ve been-” He paused, trying to muster up the courage to say it. “I feel like I’ve been too hard on you.”

Fundy looked away from Wilbur, turning instead to the landscape of L’manburg. 

“I want to give you the world, Fundy. I really do.” Wilbur said. 

Fundy wanted to say so many things. Words formed an incoherent mess in his head, shouting and screaming on what he should say to him. What he feels. 

Instead, Wilbur said, “I just… I don’t know how. I’m sorry.”

_I’m sorry_

“Alright.”

The two of them stood in silence for a few minutes, neither one of them sure of what to do or say. They were both scared that if they made the wrong move, or said the wrong thing, it would break the fragile bridge that had been formed. 

“Oy Wilbur!” A loud, obnoxious voice called out from the ground, shattering the balance between the two men. “BadBoyHalo wants to talk with you!” 

Wilbur turned away from Fundy and looked down at his right hand man, quickly standing from where he was sitting on the edge of the wall. “What? Why the fuck is he doing here?” 

“I don’t know, he said something about you not using potions correctly” 

He let out a groan and ran a hand through his hair in annoyance. “Alright, I’m coming. Fundy, I’ll talk to you later.”

Fundy couldn’t help but notice the way he suddenly acted as if nothing happened, as if he hadn’t just apologized. He quietly huffed and rolled his eyes as he turned back towards the empty forest, trying to cling onto the quickly fading warmth of Wilbur’s apology. 

~~~

Leaves rustled in the nearby forest, as Eret readjusted his weight. He was perched on a tree branch, the foliage of the other trees almost completely concealing him from view. One of his hands rested against the trunk of the tree, helping him to steady himself as wind shook the branches underneath him. His other arm hung uselessly at his side, still throbbing in pain from where Tubbo had shot him. 

Although it had been several days since he had been found by Bad and George, his arm was still healing. Each movement sent a small spike of pain through him, despite the fact that it looked like there was nothing wrong with his arm. The only thing out of the ordinary was the slightly swollen scar that sat on his bicep. 

He had tried to ask Bad for more potions to try and speed up the process, but he was only met with a disappointed sigh. Bad had walked away, quietly mumbling to himself. 

George had noticed his friend’s confusion, and quickly explained that drinking too many potions of any time was dangerous, but too many healing potions could make a person extremely sick. 

Despite all that, Eret hated the idea of sitting in one place. The past few days had gone by in a sort of daze. Everything felt slightly numb, as though he were passing through a cold wind, and lazing around wasn’t helping. He needed to get outside, to feel fresh air, to feel something that was at least somewhat familiar. Although the community house was cozy, it was suffocating. 

Eventually, Bad had said it was ok for him to go outside, under the condition that he didn’t do anything stupid that reopened his wound, and that he actually wore a coat. 

The moment he stepped outside, Eret found himself running towards L’manberg. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe he wanted to make sure his friends were safe. Maybe he wanted to see if they really hated him. 

He had gotten within 50 yards of the walls before he had chickened out and retreated to the treeline to consider what to do next. It had taken him very little time to climb the nearest tree, despite the pain that continued to run up his arm. By the time he had reached a sturdy branch that offered him a decent view of the walls, his arm ached. 

Still, Eret was able to get a clear view of the top of the walls from where he was perched, and he was just barely able to make out what people were saying if he strained his ears. 

As he listened to Fundy and Wilbur’s conversation, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of pity for his ginger friend. Even from his spot in the tree, he could see the emotions that flashed across Fundy’s face as the two talked. He watched as a mixture of hope and slight confusion filled his expression, only for it to be quickly replaced by hurt, then a carefully crafted blank expression. 

It was obviously something that he had practiced often, making it clear that Fundy had spent a lot of time trying to hide what he felt. In a way, it was sort of depressing. He couldn’t help but wonder what his friend had gone through. 

The sound of glass shattering above him echoed through the trees, accompanied by a shower of purple dust. If Eret hadn’t been holding onto the trunk of the tree with his uninjured arm, he would have very likely fallen. 

He watched as the cloud of dust gathered into the shape of a person, only for it to fall away and reveal a grinning Sapnap. All of this happened in less than a second, giving Eret almost no time to compose himself. 

A cackle sounded through the forest, as Sapnap struggled to keep his balance on the branch he was perched on because of his laughter. “Oh my god, you should have seen your face!” 

Quickly, Eret raised a finger to his lips. “Shut up!” He hissed, glancing nervously at the fox that stood atop the wall, “You’re gonna get us caught”

Eret tensed as Fundy glanced around nervously, searching the woods for the source of the noise. 

Sapnap was silent for a few moments as he watched the ginger look around. However, he soon let out a loud burst of laughter. “You’re scared of the little fox bitch? Seriously?”

“I never said that,” he said quickly, trying to defend himself. 

“Oh yeah? Then why are you trying to act all stealthy and shit?” 

“Because…” Eret quickly wracked his brain, trying to come up with an excuse as to why he was here in the first place that would make sense. “I-- I was just trying to see if uh… I was trying to see how they were reacting to my betrayal. I figured that it could help in some way.” 

“Huh,” was Sapnap’s only response. As Eret watched, he swung down onto a lower branch, now on the same level as him. “That actually makes sense. Did you learn anything useful?” 

Eret couldn’t help but notice that Sapnap’s voice was much quieter, as if he was now making an effort to stay hidden. “Not much. Fundy and Wilbur got into an argument I think? I’m not really sure.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I guess Wilbur went to go apologize to him for something, but he ended up just leaving as if nothing had happened. Fundy looked pretty upset about it” 

Sapnap let out a thoughtful hum, the gears turning in his mind. “Interesting. Yeah… Yeah that's definitely useful information.”

He sent a silent glance of concern towards the man next to him, suddenly worried as to what Sapnap was planning. The last thing he wanted was for his friends to get hurt in any way, even if they did all despise him for something that never even happened. “Why? What are you thinking?”

He shrugged slightly, brushing off the question “Nothing, just doing a bit of brainstorming. You’ll want to let Dream know what you saw though, he’ll want to know about it.” His dark blue eyes widened suddenly. “Shit, that reminds me. He actually sent me out to come get you.”

Eret couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize he was back.” When he had first woken up in the community house, he had tried asking George where Dream was, only to learn that he had apparently gone on some sort of resource gathering trip and wouldn’t be back for several days. It was an answer that was both frustrating and slightly relieving at the same time. 

On one hand, he couldn’t help but feel like Dream knew something about what had happened to him. But on the other, the memory of a cold, cruel laugh was burned into his mind, haunting him whenever he closed his eyes. 

He wasn’t sure how to feel now, knowing that Dream was back from his trip. For some reason, he had thought that he had more time to prepare for the encounter. 

Sapnap shrugged, “He got back like, thirty minutes ago. I would be more surprised if you _did_ know that he was back. But yeah, he wants us all to meet at Punz’s house for a strategy meeting.” 

Eret let out a quiet huff of annoyance. “And you’re sure that I have to be there? Why?” 

“I dunno, maybe because you’re the only one that actually knows anything about the layout of L’manberg? Figured that was kinda obvious” As he talked, he dug through the bags that hung around his waist and pulled out two small spheres, each one roughly the size of a marble. He handed one of the marbles to Eret, clearly expecting him to already know what it was. “Here, it’ll be faster if we pearl.” 

Eret stared at the marble in his hand, his face twisted in confusion. He glanced up at Sapnap, trying to figure out what to do. As he watched, the other man gave the sphere a slight squeeze, causing it to expand before his very eyes. With a frown, he attempted to copy the movements, slightly shocked when he got the same results. 

With the balance of a trained fighter, Sapnap carefully stood up on the branch, keeping one of his hands on the trunk of the tree for support. Eret watched as he threw the pearl as far as he possibly could in the general direction of the SMP. 

Before it could hit the ground and teleport him, the man turned and gave Eret one last grin. “I’ll see you there”

And with a shower of purple dust, he vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa im so sorry for the delay on this one! I had some serious writers block for a bit, but I swear I'm back on track now! 
> 
> also, we got a new editor! Her name is [@Tea-With-Veth](https://tea-with-veth.tumblr.com/), aka the author of [and as he fell (you walked away).](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26435530/chapters/64405210)  
> 10/10, incredible fic, go read it if you haven't already :D


	6. Chapter 6

Cold, frosty air filled Eret’s lungs as he stood in front of the entrance to Punz’s home. He was currently forcing himself to take deep breaths, trying to ignore the fact that his head was still spinning after using the ender pearl. 

Teleporting using the ender pearl was... An interesting experience, to say the least. He had expected it to be an instantaneous sensation, something that happened in the blink of an eye and then allowed him to simply move on with his life. 

Instead, it had felt as if someone was tearing his very being apart, atom by atom, only to reconstruct it somewhere else. It wasn’t painful exactly, instead it just felt… weird. It was like someone had pulled his soul through a tear in the fabric of reality itself. In a way, it reminded him of the tugging sensation that he had felt when he first arrived in this world, except on a much smaller scale. 

Although the experience hadn’t been painful, it had left Eret feeling extremely motion sick and dizzy, not to mention just generally disoriented. 

Even after walking the rest of the way to Punz’s house, he still needed to make a serious effort to stand up straight. The bitter cold that surrounded him wasn’t exactly helping, either. 

Still, he forced himself straightened his back, and knocked on the door. 

Only a few moments passed before Punz opened the wooden door, revealing a large, open room behind him. The walls were built from what looked like dark oak, making the entire room feel cold and ominous. Eret couldn’t help but think about how cozy it might be if the room was smaller. 

A voice pulled him from his reverie, “Oh good, you’re here. The others are already in the meeting hall waiting for you.”

“Sorry about that,” he responded awkwardly, stepping out of the winter air, “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting” 

Punz only shrugged as he led the taller man through the house “You’re fine. George just got here a few minutes ago, so we haven’t been waiting long”

Not exactly sure how else to respond, he simply let himself be led to the supposed meeting hall. 

In almost no time at all, Eret found himself facing yet another imposing doorway. As Punz pushed open the doors, he couldn’t help but hold his breath. 

The scene that met him was enough to make him tense with apprehension. The meeting hall wasn’t overly large like the name first suggested. In fact, it felt far too small, leaving him almost no room to breathe, or even think. 

The room was roughly the size of an average dining room, with a large table in the center. Nearly every available surface was covered in maps and diagrams, the walls covered in different battle plans and strategies. The table was covered in empty ink wells and old quills, making it obvious that no one could be bothered to go and tidy things up. 

Surrounding the table were five chairs, two of which were occupied. Both Sapnap and George were sitting on opposite sides of the table, each of them sorting through their own separate piles of notes. 

At the head of the table, a masked figure stood over a large map of what appeared to be the SMP. The map was covered in different markings, making it almost impossible to make sense of. 

Eret could feel his blood run cold as the masked figure looked up at him, the cartoonish smile staring into his soul. 

_ Dream.  _

Normally, Eret would have been more than happy to see him. After all, the two of them were friends. However, he still couldn’t get the image of what happened in the final control room out of his mind. He couldn’t just forget the way that the childish mask stared down at him, or the cruel laugh that accompanied it. He could almost hear the same laugh echo in his mind as the mask once more stared at him from across the table.

“Good, you’re here. Take a seat, there's some things that I wanted to discuss with you.” Dream’s voice tore Eret from his thoughts, making him realize that he was the only one still standing. Punz had already gone and taken a seat, leaving only one chair open. 

He quickly went and sat down, trying to cover his hesitation. The only person that seemed to notice was George, however he only gave Eret a confused glance, before shrugging and returning his attention to the papers in front of him. 

“Now then,” Dream began, his voice so different from the cheerful and encouraging tone that Eret remembered. Instead, it was cold and calculating, filling him with a sense of dread. “Before we begin, Eret,” all the attention in the room suddenly turned towards him, “Sapnap mentioned that you overheard a conversation between Fundy and Wilbur that could potentially be useful. Care to fill us in on the details?” 

He couldn’t help but swallow nervously, before explaining the conversation he had overheard. The entire time he was talking, he couldn’t help but notice the way that Dream was nodding thoughtfully, as if he were already coming up with some sort of plan. 

By the time he was finished explaining, Dream simply nodded appreciatively, his mouth set in a thoughtful line. “Interesting,” he said, “Sapnap, make a note of that. If we play our cards right, we may be able to come back to that at a later date” 

Eret’s eyes widened in fear as the soft sound of scratching filled the air. The last thing that he wanted was for his friends to get hurt, however he couldn’t help the growing sense of dread that rested in his gut. 

“So, what did you want to talk to us about?” George asked, already sounding bored. He was leaning back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling above him, the grain of the wood clearly much more interesting to him then whatever Dream had to say. 

However, if his disinterest bothered the masked man in any way, it was impossible to tell. Infact, it only seemed to make him more excited. A wide grin spread across his face, ever so slightly too wide to be comforting. It only ended up making his already ominous appearance that much more unnerving.

A shiver ran up Eret’s spine, despite the warm fire that danced in the hearth. 

“Well, if you didn’t notice, the people of  _ L’manberg _ ” he snarled the name, as if its very existence was an insult, “have been getting a bit too comfortable with their situation.” 

“We literally just exposed a double agent in their ranks,” George pointed out, glancing towards Eret as he spoke, “I’d hardly call that comfortable.” 

“And yet it clearly wasn’t enough, now was it? I still don’t see any white flags above their walls, do you?” 

“So then what are you suggesting we do? We all know that a head-on assault isn’t going to do much, unless we manage to take one of them out,” Sapnap added casually.

Punz rolled his eyes, as if he had heard this argument many times before already. “They have too many potions for that, it would never work. We’ve gone over this already.” 

Dream raised a hand, silencing the conversation. Eret couldn’t help but be impressed by how easily the man was able to control the atmosphere of the room. 

“I’m not suggesting we try a head-on attack. We’ve already discussed how that wouldn’t work. No, what I’m suggesting is something  _ much _ more exciting.” The grin on his face grew wider as he spoke, giving him the appearance of an excited child. “I’m saying that it's time we sent a message. One they can’t ignore.” 

The entire room fell silent as they listened with baited breath. Each person’s attention was now completely fixated on the man at the head of the table. Even George, who previously had been on the verge of falling asleep, was now wide awake, his elbows propped up on the table in front of him. 

Punz nodded, a look of concentration painted on his face. “I’m listening”

With practiced ease, Dream’s hands began to sift through the piles of documents in front of him, clearly looking for something. “Sapnap, how much gunpowder would you say you have stashed away?” 

Eret’s heart sank.

Sapnap’s dark eyes were suddenly bright with a strange mixture of excitement, and something darker. In a way, it almost looked like hunger. “I think I might have a couple bags of it somewhere, we already used most of it when we blew up their little ‘embassy.’”

“Right. You and George are going to be in charge of collecting more. I want a full chest of it as quickly as possible.” 

_ “WHAT?!”  _

Dream ignored the outburst, instead choosing to study a map of what looked to be the world. “Punz, you will be in charge of collecting sand. There should be a desert to the west, ‘should only take you half a day to get there if you take one of the horses.” 

The hooded man nodded, making a mark of the location on a second, hastily drawn map. 

Both Sapnap and George were still staring at Dream in shock, each making vague sounds of protest.

“What the fuck?!” George asked “That’s going to take  _ forever _ to gather”

Collecting gunpowder was a tricky thing. Unlike bones or rotten flesh, you couldn't just pick it up after killing a creeper. Instead, you needed to dissect the thing and manually harvest the explosives from inside. If you managed to collect it without blowing anything up, you would only get a small amount. It was a delicate process that could very easily go wrong in many different ways. 

Still, Dream showed no reaction to their shock, only tilting his head to the side ever so slightly. The motion may have been small and insignificant, but it caused both of them to fall silent. 

“Well then,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet, “I suppose it’s a good thing I assigned this task to both of you. Now then, may I continue?” 

They both sat back in their chairs, having the decency to look at least somewhat ashamed of themselves. George nodded ever so slightly.

“Good. Anyways, as I was saying, Punz, you will be in charge of gathering sand.” 

As Dream spoke, Eret couldn’t help but shrink back into his chair slightly, hoping that the man had somehow managed to forget about him. However, his hopes were very quickly dashed.

“As for Eret,” he began, “You will be the one to dig out the cavern under L’manberg, as well as the one to plant the bombs once they are ready.” 

“What?” For a terrifying moment, he could feel the air freeze around him. His eyes widened in shock as his mind processed exactly what Dream was telling him to do. 

Dream’s mouth was tugged down into a slight frown, causing a jolt of fear to run through him. 

He snapped his mouth shut and nodded. “Uh, yes sir.” God, he hated how pathetic he sounded.

“Good. It's about time that we put those  _ children _ in their place.” 

~~~

The next week passed by in a haze of worry, despair, and freshly baked muffins. He quite enjoyed the muffins but the other two fogged his mind. 

The idea of toying with people’s lives was… unsettling to say the least. However, the thing that bothered him the most was the fact that it  _ didn’t  _ bother him. These were real people, real stakes and real bloodshed. But for some reason, all he could feel was a dull numbness. 

Even as he began working on the tunnel underneath L’manburg, digging the path that would pave the way to destruction, the fogginess remained. The white haze where his sunglasses ended and where his peripheral lay seemed to grow into his vision. He only spoke in half-mumbled replies and quiet nods. 

One night, when he couldn’t sleep (let’s face it, it was something that was becoming more and more common), there was a knock on his doorway. Usually, George wouldn’t disturb him while he was sleeping. Maybe it was Bad some late-night muffins, all laced with regeneration potions. 

Much to his surprise, the curtain that served as his door was pushed aside to reveal both of them. Bad walked into his room while George stood at the door frame. 

“You haven’t been sleeping,” Bad started.

“Or eating. Or showering. Or--” George interjected, cutting off whatever it was Bad was about to say. 

“You know what I mean!” he said, his voice tinged with annoyance. “We just, we wanted to check on you” He paused, looking towards Eret for a reply

A nod, proof that he was at least listening.

“Answer me truthfully, Eret. Are you okay?”

A brief pause. 

“I uh… I don’t think so...” Eret answered quietly.

“Does it have something to do with the meeting?” Bad asked softly, breaking the silence that had filled the room. 

He nodded slightly.

“With Dream?” George added.

Eret paused again, suddenly unsure of what to do.Should he tell them? Dream was supposed to be their ally. If he were to tell them… they might tell Dream. Of course he trusted them, they were the only people he could even slightly confide in. But he felt like he was pushing it. How longer can they put up with him?

“Eret, please answer. Did it have something to do with Dream?” Bad spoke in a kind, almost pleading tone.

Another pause. 

Slowly, he nodded. 

“Talk to him.” George said.

“What?” Eret replied, sitting up on his bed.

“Eret, I know he’s sort of…” George gestured with his hands. “Terrifying at times. But you have to tell him sooner or later.”

“That-” Eret turned towards George. “That doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

“He’ll understand, Eret. I know he will.” Bad replied.

“Just…  _ trust _ us. Trust  _ him _ . It’ll do you no good to keep your emotions bottled up inside.” 

Trust was the thing that weakened L’manberg.

But trust was the only thing Eret could rely on right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyy would you look at that it didnt take me a full month to write this are you guys proud of me?


	7. Chapter 7

“This is a terrible idea,” Eret whispered softly, “This is an awful idea, it’s not going to work.” 

He was standing outside the entrance to Dream’s secret base, pacing back and forth. He had visited this particular spot many times over the past few days, trying to gather the courage to go inside. Every time, he had somehow managed to convince himself not to enter. 

His instincts told him to run, run as far away as possible from the masked man inside the room. He’s seen Dream’s mask before, cold and unblinking. His smile, wide and unsettling. He imagined the mask staring at him, the cold,  _ cold _ eyes, the wide smile that terrified everyone who dared to cross it.

Yet, a small nagging question lingered… 

_ Does Dream know? _

He remembered the feeling of falling, the world spinning around him, weaving and stitching itself into place. He remembered the looks in his friends’ eyes, the look of anger and sorrow directed at the person that was supposed to be in his place. He remembered the tone of Dream’s voice, “ _ Eret, you were supposed to be on our side. I’m glad I came prepared. _ ” Something about his tone felt  _ wrong _ . 

He supposed that was why he needed to talk with Dream. He desperately wanted to return home, and he wouldn’t learn anything from just standing around. It was a fact that neither Bad or George would let him forget. 

Every day that Eret returned to the community house, he would always be greeted with curious glances, only for it to inevitably turn into quiet disappointment. He hated it. But for some reason, he simply couldn’t bring himself to follow through with his promise. 

“Eret?” A voice from behind him startled him from his thoughts, making him jump. 

He quickly spun around, only to find himself face to face with the very man he was looking for. Despite the porcelain mask that covered his expression, Eret could still see the annoyance and confusion in his stance. 

“Dream,” he responded, forcing his voice to be calm and steady. The last thing he needed was to show how nervous he was, especially to someone who could potentially use it against him. “I was hoping to speak with you.” 

His weight shifted, and although Eret couldn’t see the man’s expression, he could easily imagine Dream raising an eyebrow behind the mask. “Oh? Is there a problem?” he asked.

Although the question sounded innocent enough, the underlying message was clear as day.  _ Do not waste my time. _

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the fear that was running through his veins. “Not exactly, I just wished to talk about the events of the past few weeks.” 

The only response he got was a slight tilt of the head, silently gesturing for him to continue. 

“More specifically, I was hoping to discuss the Final Control Room.” 

_ That _ got a response. Dream crossed his arms over his chest, looking as though he didn’t have a care in the world. However, the small smirk on his face made it clear to Eret that his attention was captured. “Oh? What could you possibly want to talk about?” 

“Well,” he started, praying that Dream couldn’t tell that his hands were trembling, “I wanted to know what you thought of it.”

He shrugged, his body language still unreadable. “I thought it went well. Everything went according to plan. If this is about your end of the deal, I already told you not to worry. You’re still going to become king. ”

Eret couldn’t help but frown slightly at that. He could still hear the taunts from the final control room, making it seem like something had gone wrong in whatever plan he had created. He quickly waved away the second half of Dream’s sentence, instead choosing to focus on the first part. “Really? It didn’t quite seem like it at the time” 

A slight tilt of the head. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” 

“I believe you already know what it means.” His eyes narrowed in a silent challenge. This was a bad idea, he knew that it was a bad idea, but he needed  _ answers _ . 

The small smirk grew into a sly grin, sending shivers down Eret’s spine. “Yes, I believe I do,” He took a small step forward, yet Eret refused to step back, “The real question however, is how do  _ you  _ know that. You aren’t supposed to remember any of that” 

A shaky breath escaped his lungs. He needed to stand strong. “I don’t think that matters right now. What really matters, is what you  _ did _ back there.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more specific” 

He clenched his jaw slightly in frustration. “What did you do to me, Dream? Why am I here? What the fuck is going on?” 

A harsh laugh emerged from the man in front of him, washing over Eret in waves of fear. “Ah, so now you’re finally getting to the point. I was wondering how long it would take for you to ask,” Dream spoke in a calm voice, as though he had all the time in the world. “You know, I was hoping that you would forget along with everyone else, however, this has already made things  _ much _ more interesting.” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means that I just found my new source of entertainment.” The cartoonish, painted smile sent a cold shiver down Eret’s spine. 

Still, he couldn’t show Dream that his attempts at intimidation were working. “Excuse me?” He asked, drawing himself up to full height. “I will not be reduced to nothing more than entertainment for you. I am still a human being”

The only answer he received was another laugh, cold and mocking. “See, there's a slight problem with that logic, Eret.” Another step forward. His voice quieted to a whisper. “You don’t have a choice.”

Eret liked to consider himself a rather level headed person normally. He was calm, and he didn’t often make rash decisions. He couldn’t remember the last time he had lashed out at someone in anger. 

However, the stress of the past couple weeks had worn his patience to the bone. 

Something inside him snapped. The dams that he had so carefully built up over the past few days came crashing down, allowing all his anger and fear to come pouring out. 

Before he even realized what was going on or what he was doing, the quiet  _ hiss _ of a sword being drawn rang out through the air. Next thing he knew, the weight of a netherite sword rested in his hand, the tip pointed directly at Dream’s throat. His eyes flared, bathing his face with light. His breathing turned heavy and labored, fueled by the anger that raced through his veins. 

Despite the sharp blade that was pointed towards his throat, Dream didn’t so much as flinch. Instead, he merely leaned back slightly, a smug smirk playing across his lips. His stance dripped with confidence, making it seem like he had already won. 

“Now now, there’s no need for that, now is there?” A single finger pressed down on the netherite blade, forcing Eret to lower it, “Let’s be civil about this.” 

“Shut up,” Eret’s voice emerged in a low snarl, filled with anger and annoyance. He was sick and tired of feeling lost and unsure, and he just wanted some god damn answers. “Just shut up.” 

A tilt of the head, making the masked man appear mockingly innocent. “Well that’s not very nice. I’m only trying to help.” 

“I said shut  _ up _ !” He cried out, lunging forward with his sword. The strike was uncoordinated and sloppy, driven only by rage and hatred. Dream easily sidestepped the blade, dodging it with ease. The smug smirk on his face only grew. 

“Ah ah ah, let’s not resort to violence. We’re grown men after all.” 

As Eret moved to strike once more, the sound of metal against metal rang out in the air. Somehow, within the blink of an eye, Dream had managed to draw his own weapon to meet Eret’s. 

With a quick flick of his wrist, Eret’s sword went flying out of his hands, landing in the nearby dirt. He was barely given a chance to react before his feet were kicked out from underneath him, sending him tumbling towards the ground with a  _ thud _ . 

Any air that had been in his lungs was instantly pushed out, leaving him unable to move in shock, staring up at the blindingly bright sky above. His glasses must have fallen off as well.

He wasn’t sure how long he spent laying on the bumpy ground, gasping and desperately trying to fill his lungs with air. Sharp rocks and roots dug into his back uncomfortably, yet he couldn’t find it in himself to move. He was too busy trying to  _ breathe _ . 

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, a small voice reminded him about just how lucky he was that his arm was no longer injured. He couldn’t help but notice that it sounded like Bad. 

The entire time he laid there, Dream stared at him. Although Eret couldn’t see his expression, it was clear that he was unimpressed. 

With a huff, Eret moved to push himself up. After all, his lungs were supposed to work better if he was standing up, right? 

Before he could get even an inch off the ground, a heavy boot landed on his chest, pushing him back down. Suddenly, the emotionless, white mask was directly above him.

The bright white of the mask combined with the blinding light that covered everything he saw resulted in a dull pain behind his eyes. He quickly closed them.

“Don’t fucking close your eyes. I expect you to look at me when I’m talking to you,” Dream’s voice was no longer filled with false innocence, instead it was cold and harsh. Each word seemingly demanded Eret’s full attention, and they would settle for no less. 

He forced his eyes open. A dull headache was already starting to form. “What the…” a cough interrupted his pathetic wheezing, “What the fuck do you want?” 

“What I want,” Dream began, “is for you to stop acting like a  _ child _ .” He leaned down slightly, pressing his boot harder against Erets sternum. 

Instinctively, Eret’s body curled in on itself, like a dying insect trying to protect itself. His glowing eyes slid shut, his hands reaching towards the boot that was pressed against his chest, trying to pull it away. 

For a brief moment, the pressure was lifted. He collapsed with relief, but it was short lived. The boot came crashing down against his stomach,  _ hard _ . It was enough to make him retch slightly. “I thought I told you to look at me when I’m speaking to you” 

The moment that Dream stepped back, Eret rolled away, desperate to escape. He could feel the pair of eyes staring him down, making it so that he had no way of truly running. 

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to curl up into a tight ball and scream until his throat was raw, consequences be damned. He didn’t care that Dream could kill him without a second thought, or that he was planning to blow up all of his friends. All he cared about was the fact that he was in pain, and he wanted to go home. 

That’s all it really was, wasn’t it? He just wanted to go home. 

The sound of gravel shifting made him quickly turn, pushing himself up in desperation. His fingers fumbled with the pair of glasses that had landed in the dirt nearby, trying to put them on. The dark glass instantly dimmed the world around him, soothing the pain that was building behind his eyes. 

Dream watched from where he was crouched down against the dirt, balanced on the tips of his toes. “Now, listen here, Eret. I don’t care if you’re not technically from here. I expect you to follow through with the plan. Understood?” 

“And what if I refuse?” 

The smug smirk returned, as though he had been waiting for Eret to ask that very question. “Well then, I suppose I’ll just have to take matters into my own hands.” His words were accentuated by a low chuckle. 

Another cough was torn from his lungs. “What? What are you going to do?” 

The masked man tilted his head once more, bringing a hand towards his chin, as if he were deep in thought. “I wonder what the people of that little  _ nation _ \--” he said the word as though it personally offended him, his upper lip curling in disgust, “--would do if their great leader somehow got into some sort of accident. One where he was unable to receive help, and was only found after it was too late. ” 

Eret’s eyes widened in fear and shock. “You wouldn’t... You wouldn’t dare…!” 

“Or what if the strange fox creature was convinced to turn on his friends and family? Or maybe--”

“I get it!” he cried out, “I- I’ll follow the original plan.” God, he hated the way that the words tasted on his tongue, but it wasn’t as if he had much of a choice. If Dream followed through with his threats, Eret highly doubted that the victim would survive. Not to mention, he would very likely plant the bombs anyways, blowing the small nation to kingdom come. 

At least if Eret was the one to do it, he could try to make sure they were in spots that would cause the least amount of lasting damage. At least he could try to make sure his friends stayed safe. 

“Good. I can’t wait to see the results.” Dream’s voice was once more mockingly innocent, as if he hadn’t just threatened to kill several people. In a cruel and twisted way, it was almost reminiscent of a teacher or parent, speaking about how  _ proud  _ they were of a child. Even his smile was filled with expectations. 

It made his stomach churn in disgust. 

Dream pushed himself to his feet, brushing off his jeans. “Oh, and one last thing. When the time comes, I expect you to light the fuse.” 

~~~

“God damn it…” Eret’s voice echoed across the small clearing he now found himself in, filling the night time air, “God  _ damn  _ it!” 

Several hours had passed since his encounter with Dream, and yet he couldn’t find it in himself to go back to the community house. Instead, he had found himself wandering into a nearby forest, wanting nothing more than a chance to clear his head. 

He wasn’t sure how much time he had spent wandering through the woods, replaying the encounter from earlier over and over again, trying to figure out what he could have done differently. By the time he finally snapped out of his trance like state, the sun had already set, and the sounds of monsters surrounded him. 

Even then, the true gravity of his situation didn’t settle in until he found himself face to face with a zombie, its decaying flesh serving as a harsh reminder as to where he was. This wasn’t his home, or even his world. He didn’t belong here. 

With an uneven swing of his sword, the creature collapsed into a pile of rotting flesh and bones. He took a hasty step backwards, away from the rancid heep on the ground, Bad’s warnings playing on repeat in his mind. The last thing he needed right now was to become sick.

A sharp  _ twang _ echoed across the clearing, making his head snap up. An arrow embedded itself in the ground, directly where his feet had been only seconds prior. 

_ Shit.  _

He spun around, his sword still in hand. On the opposite side of the clearing, a lone skeleton stood with a bow in hand and a quiver on its back. A second arrow was already in its fingers as it mechanically went to re-nock the bow. 

The two of them maintained eye contact the entire time, neither one willing to look away. 

Eret stepped forward, his face contorted into a scowl. He didn’t have the energy, or the patience to deal with this right now. That didn’t even take into account the fact that he barely knew how to use a sword in the first place. 

As he walked closer, the figure turned sideways and began to draw back the bow-string, never once taking its eyes off of the approaching man. 

Another arrow flew through the air, forcing Eret to jump sideways out of the way. It wasn’t fast enough. 

The tip of the projectile skimmed the side of his arm, ripping through fabric and skin. He winced slightly, though his mind didn’t fully register the pain. He was too focused on trying to take out the monster that stood in front of him. 

Another swing of his sword, and the skeleton collapsed into a pile of bones. With a huff of frustration, he kicked the small pile with his foot, scattering the remains across the forest floor. He didn’t bother trying to collect the arrows. It wasn’t like he could do much with them anyways. 

Pain raced up his arm, reminding him of the gash that he had received. Blood soaked into the fabric of his jacket, making his lip curl in annoyance. 

This wasn’t even his coat. It was one that Bad had lent to him after he had realized that Eret didn’t exactly have any winter clothing of his own. The warmth he had felt when he had received the gift had been enough to chase away the lingering cold that never seemed to leave his fingertips. 

And now it was ruined because of his stupid mistake. 

The tears that had been building up inside of him over the past week came pouring out, no longer held back by fragile dams. They streamed down his face, hot and angry. 

He hated this, hated everything about it. He hated the fact that couldn’t return home, hated the fact that his friends were constantly in danger, hated the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it. 

He was stuck in a world that wasn’t his own, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

A scream was torn from his lungs, spilling unfiltered emotions into the air. All of his pain, sorrow, and frustration filled the space around him, until it was the only thing left. 

~~~

It must have been around 3 or 4 am by the time Eret finally returned to the community house, his movements weighed down with exhaustion. After his emotional breakdown earlier that day, he wanted nothing more than to go and collapse in bed and sleep for the next three days. 

As he pushed aside the curtain that separated his little room from the rest of the building, he very nearly collapsed on his bed without a second thought. However, a small piece of paper caught his attention, resting on top of the blankets. 

It was pure white, with only a few words scribbled in the center. 

_ Dark oak forest, directly east. You’ll know it when you see it.  _

_ Good luck :) _


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eret's emotions start to get the better of him. He doesn't know what to do.

Eret hadn’t expected to fall asleep that night. His mind was racing a thousand miles an hour, constantly replaying the events of the day over and over again. 

However, releasing the floodgates of emotion had left him drained and exhausted, leaving him with nothing left to keep him going. Sleep had claimed him the moment his head hit the pillow. 

By the time he had woken up the next day, the mid-day sun was streaming through the windows, filling the room with light and warmth. 

Every muscle in his body screamed in protest as he pushed himself out of bed, making him wince in pain. He could already feel the bruises on his stomach and back from where he had been thrown on the ground, not to mention the sting in his arm made him clench his jaw slightly in pain. 

Dried blood caused the fabric of his jacket to stick to his skin, pulling at the wound uncomfortably. He cursed himself quietly, once more annoyed by his own incompetence. He would need to patch up the jacket. 

He stepped out into the main room, blinking exhaustion from his eyes. An inky, dark form could be seen in the kitchen, humming softly to himself. It was a familiar sight. 

“Hey Bad.” Eret’s voice was rough and scratchy, worn down from his emotional outburst the night before. “Do you have a needle and thread I could borrow?” 

“Of course! There should be some in--” Bad turned to look at his friend, his pure white eyes widening in concern. “Oh my gosh, are you ok? What happened?”

Eret didn’t blame him for being worried, he knew that he looked like a mess. He hadn’t bothered to change into his sleepwear before collapsing into bed, so his clothes were wrinkled and messy. Dark bags hung under his eyes, and the sleeve of his coat was stained with dried blood. 

Still, his exhaustion made him grumpy and irritable. “I’m fine, it's just a small scratch,” he snapped, “I just need to mend the sleeve.” 

“Don’t be silly, we need to bandage and clean your arm. The last thing we would want is for you to get an infection,” he said, already pulling out a basic first aid kit, “Come sit down, let me take a look at it.” 

His feet were already moving towards the small chair that Bad had set up, the familiar movements offering a small sense of comfort. Although he hated the idea of Bad wasting supplies on such a small wound, he knew that his friend wouldn’t rest until he was properly taken care of. 

And so he simply sat down, trying not to wince as stained fabric was cut away from his skin. The coat was already ruined enough, but now he was starting to wonder if repairing it was even a viable option. 

“So, what happened?” 

“Skeleton,” Eret’s reply was curt, making it obvious that he wasn’t exactly in the mood for talking. 

Either Bad didn’t notice the finality of the word, or he simply didn’t care. “Oh shoot, that explains it. Well in that case, I’m glad we’re cleaning the wound. Skeleton arrows aren’t exactly the cleanest thing.” He frowned slightly as he began cleaning the small cut. “I thought I’ve told you to be more careful.” 

His only response was a small hum. 

His brow furrowed with concern. “Eret?” 

“Hm?” 

“Is everything ok? You seem really out of it,” his voice was filled with gentle worry. Eret couldn’t help but feel guilt rise in his chest. He shouldn’t be making his friends worry over something so trivial. It wasn’t fair to them.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… just got a lot of stuff going on.” 

“Oh? Did you ever end up talking to Dream about whatever was bothering you?”

A slight scowl scowl overtook his face. “Yeah, yeah I did. I ran into him yesterday.” 

“And? How did it go?” 

“Fine,” he replied curtly. He didn’t know if he was allowed to tell anyone about what had happened to him, but he sure as hell didn’t want to risk it. Not when there were lives at stake. 

“Are you sure…?” 

“Yes, Bad, I’m sure!” he snapped, pulling away his now bandaged arm. The movement was stiff, the ache that laced his entire body once more flaring up. “It went fine, I don’t know what else you want from me.” 

The sound of someone walking up the wooden staircase made him tense in apprehension, still jumpy from the events of the previous day. 

However, he quickly relaxed when George poked his head out over the railing. “Is everything ok? I heard yelling.”

“It’s fine. Everything’s  _ fine _ .” Something in the back of his mind was nagging at him, berating him for treating his friends so poorly. Guilt wormed its way into his stomach. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. It's just…” he let out a long sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s been a stressful week.” 

George nodded in understanding, fully walking up the stairs and grabbing one of the muffins from the woven basket that sat at the center of the table. “I get that, I haven’t gotten a good night's sleep since that stupid meeting. I still don’t get why he wants so much gunpowder.” He covered his mouth with a hand, trying to hide the yawn that escaped him. 

A sound of disbelief sounded from the kitchen, where Bad was once more rummaging through cupboards. “He’s making you collect gunpowder? Why?” 

Even with the white glasses that covered his face, Eret could practically hear George rolling his eyes. “Something about ‘sending a message,’ I guess. He wanted me and Sapnap to fill a full chest with it.” 

Eret took a small step back, allowing the conversation to fade into background noise. Instead, he allowed himself to focus on what his next course of action was going to be. 

The small piece of paper that had been found on his bedside the night before seemed to taunt him, it's simple message worming its way into his head and refusing to leave him alone. 

Every fiber of his being screamed at him not to follow the instructions, that it was a trap. After all, the message had clearly been signed by Dream, even if there was no actual name. The simple smiley face made it obvious. 

It was extremely possible that the note had been left as a trap, designed to lure him to an undisclosed location where he could be easily taken care of. However, Dream’s words from the day before kept coming back to him. 

_ “It means I just found my new source of entertainment.” _

Although the sentence itself caused a fresh wave of anger to well up inside him, he forced himself to remain calm. In a twisted way, the words almost guaranteed Eret’s safety for the time being. He would be kept alive, if only so that he could continue to provide entertainment. 

A voice cut through his thoughts. “Eret? Hello? Are you there?” Bad’s voice was filled with a slight concern, though it also sounded like he was trying not to smile. 

Eret blinked hard, trying his best to clear his mind and focus on the situation in front of him. He removed his sunglasses and rubbed at his eye with the base of his palm. Perhaps, if he had been paying closer attention, he would have noticed the sharp gasp of surprise from George, or the way that Bad turned away. 

He quickly replaced his glasses and turned to his friend, who was holding out a small vial, filled with pink liquid. 

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Regen pot. I know normally I would bake it into something, but right now I think you could use it as soon as possible.” 

He shook his head, and tried to push away the vial. “No, I’m fine. It’s just a small scratch” 

“Oh please, I can tell that it’s more than just a scratch. Your movements are all stiff, almost like you’re in pain. I won’t ask what happened, but it’s important that you take care of yourself,” Bad’s voice was filled with a gentle concern, practically overflowing with warmth and kindness. 

Despite his urge to ignore it, Eret took the potion and downed it in a single gulp. The potion tasted surprisingly bitter, and it took all of his effort to not cough it up. Still, it filled his insides with a feeling of warmth. He could practically feel the large bruise that covered his back slowly fading away as the magic flowed through his system. 

They weren’t completely healed, he could still feel a dull ache whenever he moved, but it felt like they were several days old, rather than brand new. 

He offered his friend a small smile. “Thanks, Bad.”

“No problem! Now it’s just a matter of getting that coat patched up… I think I have a sewing kit somewhere around here, but I’m not sure. It might take me a bit though.”

He was already shaking his head. “That won't be necessary. I can do it just fine on my own. Besides, I have places that I need to get to.” Glancing around the room, his eyes landed on a map that was hung on one of the walls. He slowly moved over to it, trying to make sense of the markings. “Where would you say the nearest dark oak forest is when heading east?” 

George’s eyes narrowed. “What? Why are you traveling east? The western one is much closer.”

Eret shrugged in an attempt to appear casual and unconcerned. After all, he barely knew why he was heading that way in the first place, or even what he was looking for. But it wasn’t like he could explain that. 

“I… I just wanted to explore the eastern one?” The excuse sounded weak to his own ears, and he fully expected either George or Bad to call him out on it. 

The two of them shared a glance, seemingly having an entire conversation without ever speaking a word. 

“Ok… Well, the eastern forest is a couple days away on horseback, but it’s not an easy trip. Again, it would probably be easier to just go visit the western forest,” George’s voice was filled with skepticism as he went and started rummaging through one of the many cabinets that sat pushed against the wall. 

After a few moments, he pulled out what appeared to be a rolled up scroll. Normally, Eret might have laughed at the ridiculous sight. Maybe he would have pointed out the fact that it made George look like he was from the middle ages, or that a book would have worked just as well. 

However, right now, he couldn’t exactly find it in himself to tease. So instead, he merely walked over to the coffee table where George was rolling out the map. 

Eret wasn’t exactly a stranger to maps. He knew the basics of reading them, and he knew how to navigate his surroundings using one. But that was all with normal maps. Ones with roads and labels and cities. The one that George had laid out was nothing like that. It was instead covered in wide swaths of color, labeled only with small scribbles. He couldn’t help but be reminded of a DnD map. 

George tapped a spot on the map that was labeled with both a small doodle of a house and the words  _ Community House.  _ A small smiley face was doodled next to the words, making it appear overly happy and cheerful. 

“We’re right here, in the middle of everything,” he said, though it sounded more like he was simply thinking out loud then trying to convey information. He then moved to a large, dark green section of the map, almost directly to the east of the house. “Here’s the dark oak forest.” He glanced up, “Are you sure you want to go there? The trip is pretty difficult.” 

Eret only responded with a simple nod, remembering the small note that had been left on his bed. He didn’t care how long it took, just so long as there was a chance to find answers. 

Still, he couldn’t help but notice just how large the forest was. Based on the map, it would take him several days to search the entire thing. It didn’t help that he didn’t even know what he was looking for. 

George sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he spoke, his voice was filled with skepticism and confusion. “Alright, if you’re sure. Do you have enough supplies?” 

Eret froze. Supplies were something he hadn’t even considered until then. He was still relying on the kindness and goodwill of his friends to get by each day, simply because he didn’t exactly have anything of his own. The last thing he wanted was to cause more trouble for Bad and George after everything they had done for him, but he also didn’t want to go out into the wilderness without basic camping gear. 

“I uh… I left most of my stuff in L’manberg, remember? I haven’t exactly had the chance to go back and grab it,” As much as he tried, he couldn’t help the slight bitterness that creeped into the last sentence. He  _ knew _ that it wasn’t their fault, but that didn’t change the fact that the people of L’manberg would likely shoot him on sight. 

His arm tinged slightly in pain, a cruel reminder of all he had lost. 

Bad’s voice cut through his thoughts. “That’s alright! We should have some extra stuff for you downstairs. There’s still a ton of extra gear that no one has bothered to claim left in the chests. You don’t need to worry about a thing!” 

Any protest he might have made died in his throat as he watched both of his friends descend the spiral staircase. 

~~~

“... And here’s a spare coat, I don’t want you getting cold out there,” Bad’s voice was filled with warmth and kindness, overflowing with the concern he held for his friend. 

The three of them were standing outside the community house, the heat of the midday sun halfheartedly trying to cut through the cold winter air. 

A tall horse was standing next to them, its saddle bags filled with various supplies that Bad had insisted he bring. He couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous as he stared at the tall animal. He knew how to ride, thanks to a summer camp that his mom had insisted he attend when he was younger, but that was several years ago. Not to mention, he wasn’t exactly the best at it. 

Still, he took the coat with a small smile and slipped it on, trying to hide his growing nerves. He was extremely grateful for his friends, especially since he had no clue how to survive in the wilderness. Everything he knew was stuff he had gathered from different movies and documentaries. The last thing he wanted was to snap at them again after all they had done for him. 

There were some things that Bad had packed that Eret would have never thought of, like a flint and steel, or extra bottled water. 

“You’re sure you got everything?” Bad asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Yeah, I’m sure. You don’t need to go full Dad mode on me, I’ll be fine.” Eret had no clue if he was going to be fine or not. In reality, he was extremely nervous for the trip, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let that show. The last thing he needed was for Bad to lose sleep over his safety. 

A small snort of laughter could be heard from George. “Yeah  _ Dad _ , calm down. Eret’s a big kid, he’ll be fine.” 

The smile on Eret’s face felt forced, and with each passing moment he expected someone to call him out on it. In a desperate attempt to distract himself, he went and quickly mounted the horse. 

“Ok, well I’m sorry for trying to make sure our friend stays safe,” Bad responded, crossing his arms and pouting slightly. However, his tone was filled with a gentle fondness, and he was unable to keep the smile off his face. 

“Seriously though, are you sure you’re all good to go?” George asked, his voice suddenly serious and filled with concern. 

“Uh huh,” Eret muttered absentmindedly, too busy studying a bronze compass that Bad had given him to really register what George was saying. He glanced up at the horizon, trying to figure out how long he had before the sun set. “I should probably get going, I want to make at least a little bit of progress before it gets too dark.” 

He was met with nods of understanding. “Right, that makes sense. Good luck, ok? Don’t do anything dumb”

He attempted to give his friends what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine, I swear. I’ll see you guys later.”

Before either of them had the chance to say anything, he was gone, already pushing the horse to run as quickly as possible east. 

What he didn’t see was the worried glance that Bad and George shared. He didn’t hear the quiet words that were shared between them, filled with overwhelming concern, or the sighs of resignation as they turned away. 

Something was clearly going on with Eret, but there wasn’t much they could do. They just needed to trust that he would ask for help when he needed it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyyyyyyyyyyyy would you look at that its actually some fluff isn't that nice :)

**Author's Note:**

> Eret content pog? Hell yeah Eret content lets go 
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for more content and dumb shitposts [@FireFly464](https://firefly464.tumblr.com/)  
> I dont use twitter or Instagram often but here you go: @Fire_Fly464 (for both)
> 
> Written in collaboration with [@pamiiap](https://pamiiap.tumblr.com/) on tumblr because pami's the coolest  
> Edited and beta read by [@Tea-With-Veth](https://tea-with-veth.tumblr.com/), aka the author of [and as he fell (you walked away).](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26435530/chapters/64405210)  
> 10/10, incredible fic, go read it if you haven't already :D
> 
> Fanart is always more then welcome! If you do draw something, make sure to tag me or pami on whatever platform you post it on :D


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